For The Best
by Pikxe
Summary: A Titan has gone bad. They're evil now. And that is that. But maybe it is for the best...


Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Teen Titans

Author's Note: This has been in my head all fricken day and I MUST let it out.

And thus, I present to you….

The feature presentation….

A lone figure hidden by a flowing cloak walked through the streets. It gripped the fabric tightly, clinging it closer to hide its identity. It coughed and held its hand up to muffle it. The hand was gloved, with steel along the back like stripes. Its old gloves were gone. Burned.

It continued to walk alone down the street, heavy leather boots making a _thump_ on the sidewalk. It walked down into the subway then continued down the tracks. It reached a certain spot, marked with three red rocks and pressed its heel on the first rock. The ground began to sink, taking it down below the city.

When the floor returned to its quiet, tranquil state, the figure stepped forward into the shadows, dissolving like sugar in a glass of green tea. It opened a door and walked through, stepping out of the shadows in front of a man in a large armchair.

"So, how was it?" The man in the chair asked, not turning his chair around and keeping his back to the figure. His single gray eye moved to the side.

"Quiet, very quiet." The figure replied in a tone that was neither deep nor high-pitched. But it was heavy with the sound of evil. "It's 2 o'clock AM, Master. Most everyone is sleeping."

"I see." The man spun his chair around. His fingers were pressed together in front of his face, with his arm propped on his leg. "Now is the time, my Apprentice. They cannot fight while they are in bliss, now can they?"

"That's the thing. Are they really sleeping?" The figure asked. "Robin has developed a certain ability that fools your mind to believe he is asleep. Do you not recall the last attempt?"

"True, that it is. But however, I am always one step ahead." The man held his hand out and in his palm was a small pouch, tied with torn string. "You know what to do with this if necessary." The figure nodded, but the man beckoned him forward.

"If you do not mind, I have a request." He stood up and walked to the wall, out of the shadows.

The man was covered in black, with a silver belt and plates covering his body. He had a strap that lied across his muscular chest, but the part that drew the most attention was his mask. Half black, half bronze, and with four slits to breath through, it was his trademark. It meant death and trouble. One eyehole was found on the bronze side, showing his one gray eye that always stayed the same.

He extended his hand and placed it on the wall and gas poured out, revealing a sharp black-bladed sword with a twisted red handle, lined with silver. He picked it up and examined it, then spoke.

"Please, come view your new weapon, my Apprentice."

The figure stepped forth out of the shadows. He was very muscular and strong, but he looked emaciated. He wore a black shirt that was made baggy by his belt. The belt was made of leather and burden with daggers and potions and other knickknacks. His pants were jean material and black, also very baggy. They were tied at the bottom, meeting leather, steel tipped boots. His arms were tied with cloth, with gloves on the hands. They had metal stripes on the backs for protection.

The figure removed his cloak's hood in respect. His skin was a green color and his ears were pointed. His hair was a deep forest and was very spiky, same as his eyes, which had lost all spark of life, just the flame of evil.

The man held the sword out to his Apprentice.

"Beast Boy, I want you to kill every last Titan with this sword. _This very sword._ I trust you will obey me?"

The young man grasped the weapon and examined it, then buckled the sheath to his side and looked up. "Yes, I will obey you, Master Slade."

"That's just what I expected from such a fine Apprentice as you. Now go, and do not forget this." Slade tossed the pouch to Beast Boy and he locked it in his pocket.

"I won't." Were the last words spoken. Beast Boy pulled his hood back up and swerved around, running out of the door at top speed.

He had a mission.

And he was going to complete it.


End file.
